Adfectus (Samifer AU)
by Nr1NickiferTrash
Summary: One small act can hold great consequences and change the course of the future. What if Azazel had died years before he could make Sam one of his 'special children' and the Winchester brothers never grew up in the hunting business? (A Samifer AU with amnesiac!Lucifer and where Sam has a corgi)
1. Prologue

For countless millennia, since the dawn of creation, he has been sealed away in complete isolation, removed from light and life itself. He had nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. As the eons dragged on, he slowly became unstable, maddened by his own mind.

That is what true damnation is like.

There was nothing that the Archangel Lucifer wouldn't do if it meant he could feel sunlight on his skin again, walk the earth and feel the grass between his toes, anything to be _free_ from his personal prison in the deepest and darkest pits of Hell.

It had taken him eons, the passage of time dragged on which felt like forever, to find a way out. Azazel had died years ago, so his freedom all depended on himself. Constructed by God himself, the Cage was supposed to be perfect, but Lucifer had found a weak spot, a crack he could wiggle through. It did come at a price, he had realized, but wanting to do _anything_ if it meant his freedom, he was willing to pay.

Doing just that, he freed himself in a burst of a radiant light which lit up every corner of Hell as he blazed through it in his true form, towards his own freedom.

As time passed, he was able to find himself a vessel. A mortal man who went by the name of Nick. Spreading out his immense wings and feeling the wind move through his sensitive feathers, he soared freely after having been trapped for eons, letting the wind take him away to wherever as he allowed his heart to feel a moment of peace - something which seemed to amuse his vessel very much.

His moment was only short-lived, for it didn't take long for the cracks in his mind to appear. It was as if something took away big chunks of his memories. His memories were what made him who he was, the very core of his existence. A cry tore from Lucifer's throat and he staggered, nearly dropping from the sky as he held on to the fading pieces of himself.

Everything comes at a price, Lucifer remembered. _Now_ _it was time for him to pay_.

Having succumbed to his fate, the Archangel completely tensed up in dismay when he felt a surge of celestial energy through the air. Trusting his instincts, he flew up, evading the angel who had dived his way.

_Michael_.

His brother looked up at him with blazing eyes, yet Lucifer could see the underlying confusion. "How did you get free?!" Michael called out to him through the wind.

"I found a weak spot," Lucifer simply replied, clenching his jaw. He really couldn't afford to lose time with Michael like this. "Michael, listen to me. We're brothers. We don't _have_ to fight each other! Let's just walk off the chessboard," he desperately tried. He knew how stubborn his brother could get but no matter what had happened between them in the past, Lucifer still loved him, and he did not want to fight if he could avoid it.

Michael fell silent, and Lucifer's heart skipped a beat upon the prospect of Michael actually agreeing with him, but Michael's next words completely crushed any hope he had left. "I'm sorry, Brother. But you are a monster and I have to kill you."

"_I just want to be free and live like everyone_!" Lucifer screamed out in desperation, voice hoarse as he concentrated his powers and made sure that Michael couldn't sense it, all the while keeping a hold of his very being to make sure it did not fall apart right now. _I just need to hold it out for a bit longer_, he thought to himself.

"I have my orders." Avoiding his eyes, Michael flew up in a flash, his mind set. The only reason that Lucifer could see him move, was because he was an angel himself. Folding one wing against his side, Lucifer flew sideways to avoid his brother's deadly attack, but he wasn't fast enough, Michael's blade piercing his skin and sinking deep into his flesh.

Throwing back his head, Lucifer screamed, his true voice piercing through and shattering the sky as some of his grace leaked from the wound, mixed with blood.

"_Lucifer_!" He heard his vessel call out to him in panic. The angel and the vessel were intertwined, their fates connected. Any pain Lucifer felt, Nick felt just the same. If Lucifer died… Nick did as well.

As a tear escaped from his now fiery red eyes, Lucifer unleashed the powers he held trapped within and managed to catch Michael by surprise as the celestial energy explodes high in the sky, creating a shockwave which made the sky tremble and banish Michael back to Heaven for the time being.

The blade had torn free from his side during the blast and the Archangel fell, closing his eyes tightly as he wrapped his shaking wings around himself to somewhat protect his body from the coming impact. He landed in a field, surrounded by a forest, with a yelp and loud thud as the ground shook. A groan came from his lips as the world spun around him both from the impact he made, and the wound inflicted on him by most likely an Archangel Blade.

Lucifer's memories dwindled, slowly drifting away from him despite his efforts to keep his mind together. His very essence, the very core of who he was slipped through his mental fingers. His vessel screamed his name in full on panic - but as he slowly forgot who he was, not sure if Nick was real or a figment of his imagination anymore, the man's voice grew fainter and fainter until Lucifer couldn't hear him at all anymore.

Vaguely, he heard a dog barking in the distance as he lost the last of his memories and darkness took him.

_There is always a price to pay. And the price for his freedom were his own memories_.


	2. Chapter 1 And thus their story begins

_November 2014, Northern California _

"_Gabriel_! Don't go off too far!" Sam called after his dog, watching the Cardigan corgi disappear amongst the bushes with a sigh. But it wasn't long before Gabriel reappeared, chasing after a squirrel until it ran up a tree, leaving the small dog behind to bark at it. Sam whistled sharply, and Gabriel's large ears perked up before the dog turned to look at him. "Come!"

Shooting one last glance up at the squirrel in the tree, Gabriel turned around and trotted back towards his side, pink tongue hanging out of his mouth as his foxlike tail wagged slightly. "Don't bully the poor squirrels so much," he said, grinning in amusement when the dog's ears jolted at the word 'squirrels'.

"You know very well what I mean," Sam continued to his dog who happily walked next to him on the trail as they continued on their way, "let's just head home, Gabe. It's getting late. We can play here again tomorrow," he added, nervously looking up towards what he could see of the sky through the trees looming above his head. Streaks of orange and pink were already painting the sky, signaling that the setting of the sun was drawing near.

While the woods might be beautiful during the sunset, with all the radiant colors giving it an enchanting feel, he would rather not be stuck here in the darkness just because his dog felt the need to chase every small animal he could find. Holding Gabriel's leash in his hands, he bent through his knees to attach it to the dog's collar, and they could go home.

Too late he noticed the tensing in Gabriel's muscles and how the dog's ears perked up in a direction leading off the walking trail. Sensing something only animals could. When Sam noticed that he was about to run off again, he nearly jumped at the dog to catch him, but Gabriel had already dashed away in a flash of reddish-gold. Landing face-down on the leaf-covered ground, Sam quickly stood up and looked at the direction his dog had run off too. _Damn corgis and their speed_.

He put his hands around his mouth as he stood back to his full height. "GABRIEL! COME!" He yelled, but Gabriel did not come back like he normally would. Seeing the corgi running in the distance, Sam sighed once before he sprinted after him, calling the dog's name along the way in the hope that he would return.

Sprinting past the trees that towered high above him, he noticed how the forest became denser the further he chased after Gabriel and the trees thicker until they were wider than even a truck. "Gabriel!" Sam huffed again, looking around for any sign of the corgi. Nearly tripping on a tree root that was in his way, he managed to catch his balance before he would catch another mouthful of dirt.

Nearly jumping out of his skin, he heard what sounded like a _screech_ high up in the sky, but when he looked up in a panic he could see nothing out of the ordinary. _Probably just a bird, _he thought, unsure but not wanting to dwell on it much longer.

Plucking a few twigs and leaves out of his shaggy hair, he noticed a flash of reddish fur in the distance. Sam huffed again and went in that direction - hoping that it was his dog and he hadn't gotten lost and was chasing after a fox or something. His heart hammered against his ribcage as his feet thundered over the ground, the sound of his tread dulled by the leaves and small plants under him. At this very moment, he took a second to appreciate the nearly daily jogs he took which enabled him to be able to chase Gabriel this far off the walking trail and deeper into the forest.

Suddenly, the ground shook underneath his feet and the man screamed in shock and fell again. _An earthquake? Right now_?! Before the panic could fully settle in, the earthquake had already stopped, and the forest settled down again, but silence now hung over it as even the birds had fallen quiet. Breathing heavily, he rose on unsteady feet, failing to notice how unusual everything going on was as his mind was all over the place.

"Gabriel!" Sam called out again in annoyance, a hint of panic leaking through. The corgi had run off before when he saw or smelled something interesting, but never _this_ far, and Sam wasn't amused by his shenanigans. Hearing a chorus of barking in the distance, Sam stilled and strained his ears to hear.

Recognizing that bark anywhere, he set off again, failing to notice how the trees cleared out around him - his mind set on finding his dog and getting them home safely before it became _too_ dark.

He ran past a few trees and stopped short in his tracks when he noticed he had entered a clearing deep within the forest. His eyes widened as his mouth dropped open slightly as he was reminded again why he loved this area so much. Mountains with snowy peaks rose in the distance, and he could hear the faint sound of running water. But no other sounds were heard - even Gabriel had fallen quiet by now.

Sam took a few steps forward as he moved through the pale grass which reached just past his ankles. Noticing a tree in the middle of the clearing, he stopped again and tilted his head at how different it looked from the other trees most of the forest consisted out of. This tree had a white outer bark with fiery red and orange leaves hanging on the low branches, while most trees here had an almost reddish bark and the leaves were only found at the very top as the trees towered above everything else.

He almost hadn't noticed him at first, but Gabriel stood in front of the odd tree, something having caught his attention as his tail had stilled all movement and the dog stood there looking almost suspiciously, still like a statue.

Silently, Sam moved closer, feeling like he would disturb the tranquility hanging over this place by called out for his dog.

The closer he came, the more details of the tree he could make out, like how the bark almost seemed to glow in the setting sun and appeared to be cracked, with deep red spatters over the bark which moving down in a trail. Blood, he knew, without having to look closer. The thought unnerved him, and he rather not drew closer to the blood-spattered tree, but if he wanted to get Gabriel, he knew he had no choice.

Then his eyes moved down, following the trail of blood, and he froze once he noticed what had caught Gabriel's attention in the first place.

It was the body of a man.


	3. Chapter 2 Sam's decision

For a second, Sam stood paralyzed as he stared at the body his dog had found. All color draining from his face as he wondered if the man in the torn clothes was dead and he just accidentally stumbled across a corpse in the woods.

Movement in the corner of his eye unfroze him from his shock and he watched how Gabriel carefully went closer to the man, sniffing his face and whining softly before looking up at Sam again, his ears flopping down slightly.

"What is it?" Sam asked doubtfully. In reply, Gabriel whined again and stepped even closer to the man, like he was trying to tell Sam something. The dog started licking the man's face and Sam's eyes widened as his mouth dropped open in disbelief. "_Gabriel_!"

Sam's mouth dropped open further when the man twisted his face in displeasure at getting slobbered by the dog's tongue. _He's still alive_! Were the words ringing around in his head.

Dazed, he knelt before him, clearing his mind with a shake of his head as he inspected the wound on his side more closely to see if there was something he could do. He was no medic or cop, but it looked suspiciously like a stab wound. "How did you get here?" He muttered under his breath. He took a glance at his dog, who whined and was already looking at him with a tilted head.

Eyes trailing up the trail of blood on the tree, which looked more like a smear closer to where the guy laid, Sam tilted his head as he noticed the broken branches of the tree... _it was almost like he fell from the sky_. Blinking at this crazy idea, he shook his head. _Don't zone off, Sam. This guy obviously needs help_, he mentally scolded himself.

"Alright," Sam said as he shook off his jacket, reaching down to tightly wrap it around the man's middle to try to lessen the bleeding before he tried to pick up the guy, being as careful as he could be. "It's time to go," he said, mostly to himself, as he stood up again with the man hoisted over his shoulders, his breath fanning over his neck. Sam knew he couldn't just leave him there. He looked down at Gabriel. "Gabe. _Home_."

The corgi's ears perked up and he whined softly before turning around and trotting away, going the way they came from as Sam followed him, trusting the dog's sense of direction as his hands supported the blond guy's legs as he walked the way they came from, heading out of the woods.

Having managed to open the door to his home as he carried the still unconscious man on his shoulder, Sam took a deep breath once he set a foot on his doorway. Gabriel ran past his legs, barking wildly, as Sam kicked the door shut behind him. Adjusting the man on his shoulders, he walked through the hallway, thinking twice about it before taking the first door on his left, entering his bedroom. _He's hurt. He should stay in the bed_, Sam figured, shooting a worried glance at the blond he was carrying.

The man was still alive and breathing, but he had yet to fully gain consciousness which couldn't be a good sign.

Managing to get him down on the bed, he went to the small bathroom attached to his room, wetting a towel and getting the first aid kit he always kept under the sink, before going back to the man's side. Sitting down on the corner of the bed, he carefully unwrapped the jacket he had wrapped around the man's middle. Frowning at the bloodied shirt underneath it, he didn't decide to take any changes and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

There wasn't any reception deep in the woods, but he should be able to call an ambulance from his own home. Looking at the screen to unlock his phone, he frowned.

'No service,' it read.

"Damn it, why now out of all times?!" He grumbled. Shaking his head in displeasure, he grabbed the first aid kit he got, feeling like he had to do _something_.

He carefully ripping open the bloodied and torn shirt the man wore. Pulling a face at all the blood, he reached out with the wet towel and carefully wiped away some blood around the wound, sighing in relief when he noticed that it looked worse than it actually was.

It was definitely a stab wound, but whatever he had been stabbed with, seemed to have missed any fatal organs and didn't went as deep as Sam had feared. It will probably form a scar in the future, but he was sure that the man would live through it. "You definitely got lucky," he said, continuing to clean the wound. Disinfecting it, he put a dressing on it before he wrapped it up with Gauze Rolls.

When he had covered up the wound to the best of his abilities, Sam stood up and put the blanket up to the man's chest. Placing the first aid kit on his nightstand, he took the bloodied towel with him, as well as the torn-up shirt the man had worn - which was beyond saving - and went to leave the room.

Noticing Gabriel standing by the open door, he watched how the corgi walked into the room, jumped up the large bed and laid down at the other side of the man, his furry body pressed close as his muzzle disappeared amongst the blankets.

Sam grinned and shook his head. "Keep an eye on him, will you, Gabriel?" Sam whispered to the dog. Gabriel's large ears perked up, but other than that, there was no reaction from the dog as he laid watch.

Throwing the shirt and towel in the wash basket, he exited the room and entered the living room, taking a few blankets and a pillow along with him. Placing the pillow on the couch, Sam went ahead and wrapped himself up with the blankets as he laid down and folded one arm underneath his head. Closing his eyes, he eventually fell into a restless sleep.

The next day, Sam awoke to a chorus of barking. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes before groggily sitting up. "Gabriel, shut up," he grumbled. Not yet fully awake, he combed a hand through his messy hair as he shook his head and yawned.

That was when the events of the previous day came rushing back. That he bought a wounded, unconscious man back home. And that said man was in his bed as he had taken up the couch himself. Eyes widening slightly, he jumped up and nearly sprinted back to his room, carefully pushing open the door and peeking inside.

Gabriel stood on the corner of the bed, barking at the man who had shuffled away from the dog with wide eyes, nearly falling off the bed as he did so.

"Gabriel!" Sam called out to get the dog's attention. "_Here_!" Looking at him, the corgi did as he was told and jumped off the bed.

The man's clear eyes followed the dog until they landed on Sam, trailing up as he stayed quiet. "Uhm, hi," Sam awkwardly spoke, giving a small smile, just realizing how weird this all was. He took a wounded stranger to his home, whom he had found in a forest... did that meant that he pretty much kidnapped someone?

The man, on the other hand, didn't seem that bothered by it. He merely tilted his head as he gave Sam a somewhat blank look as he sat up slowly.

"You might not want to do that," Sam warned him, stumbling over his own words as he took a step closer. "You were hurt pretty badly when I found you, so I patched you up as good as I could. If you move around too much the bleeding might worsen," he fell quiet when noticed that the man still gave him that blank look. "The phone line is down... so I couldn't call an ambulance, and the hospital is too far away."

From the lack of reaction on the man's part, Sam couldn't help but wonder if he even _understood_ what he was saying. Maybe he's an immigrant? He figured he should ask, just to be sure. "Do you... do you understand what I'm saying? Can you speak English?" He asked, speaking slowly.

Looking almost unsure, the man nodded barely noticeable and Sam breathed out in relief. _That does make this a bit easier_, he thought, not having any idea on what to do if he wasn't understood. Carefully stepping closer, he continued to talk, the man's wary gaze focused on him and Gabriel watching on from the doorway with his ears perked up. "I'm sorry for... just taking you in like this, but I couldn't just leave you out there. You would have died if you didn't get any help, so I hope you can somewhat understand."

Having reached the bed, he awkwardly stood there, fumbling with his hands behind his back as he averted his eyes. Clearing his throat, he stiffly sat down on the uttermost corner of his bed as he looked back at the man. His dirty blond hair got stuck in all directions during his sleep and those icy blue eyes were focused on him, still with that blank look in them. Sam guessed him to be about his brother's age, but he couldn't be sure for there was _something_ about the man, which he couldn't wrap his mind around, that said differently.

"If you would like me to bring you to the hospital either way or perhaps to your home," at that, a frown formed on the man's face, "I will make the drive. But you're also welcome to stay here if you prefer." One corner of his lips curling up in a half-smile.

He held out his hand for the other to shake. "My name is Sam Winchester. I do wish it was on different circumstances... but nice to meet you, I guess."

Patiently, he waited for the man to shake his hand and introduce himself, but that did not happen. He looked at Sam's hand in confusion, appearing to be at a loss on what to do as he shaped Sam's name a few times with his lips. Then he looked up and that haunting gaze fell on him, and he cleared his throat before he spoke his first words to Sam.

"Who... who am I?"


	4. Chapter 3 A name

"You... don't know who you are?" Sam repeated stupidly, lowering his hand back to his side. _This does explain the blank looks I've been getting_, he realized.

The man shook his head, looking down with a frown. "You don't know who I am, do you?" He asked, refusing to lift his gaze as it stayed fixed on the blankets that were still covering him.

Shifting around on the bed, Sam faced the man fully. "No, I'm sorry," he truthfully spoke. "But you're welcome to stay here until you remember. If you want, that is," he added. The man nodded again at that.

"Could I... look at your wound? I would probably need to refresh it," Sam awkwardly spoke. He wasn't entirely sure _how_ to say it, how to bring it over to make it less awkward between them, but he couldn't really think of anything, so he figured that being blunt and honest would be the best way to do so.

The man blinked once, blanking out for a second before realization seemed to settle in. Nodding once, he pulled down the blanket to reveal his wrapped-up stab-wound.

Placing the first aid box next to him, Sam went to unwrap the rolls around the man's upper body, being careful so he wouldn't accidentally make it worse, so he could refresh them as clear blue eyes cautiously followed his every movement. He tilted his head slightly once the Gauze Rolls were removed to reveal the wound. Some fresh blood leaked out of it, but it was nothing too horrid. "It appears to be healing up quite well," Sam commented, gathering that the man must have been _very_ lucky and that it could have been much worse.

Very carefully, he cleaned away some of the blood and repeated what he had done last night; disinfecting and wrapping it up once again. Once he was done, he stepped back. The man looked up at him. "When I found you, your own shirt was completely torn up, so you cannot really wear that. But I can give you one of my own." He said, at which the man nodded – something he seemed to do often in comparison to speaking.

Going towards the closet in his room, he threw it open and picked out an old flannel shirt – figuring that it would be easy to put on, looking at the fact that the blond was injured. Walking back, he handed it to him. The man took the shirt and looked at it with a frown, tilting his head as he moved it around in his hands, testing the material and flexibility. "It's a flannel shirt. You wear it for warmth and to cover yourself up," Sam explained, wondering to himself if there was _anything_ that he remembered.

"Here, I'll help you put that on." Taking the shirt back, he carefully guided the man's arms through the sleeves before he buttoned it up around the top – all the while, the man looked on in inquisitiveness. "This should be fine," he commented, taking a step back as the man looked at the sleeves that were now covering his arms with a tilted head.

"I have to walk my dog soon, but I'll make sure to bring you some breakfast first," Sam said.

The man looked up again. "Dog?" He repeated with a frown.

"You already met him when you woke up. He stood guard over you throughout the night," Sam clarified, pointing at Gabriel who was still watching on from the doorway of the room. "His name is Gabriel. He's a Cardigan corgi." At the mention of his name, Gabriel's ears perked up and he barked once.

"Ah. The loud animal," the man acknowledged.

Sam couldn't help but let an amused chuckle slip past his mouth as his lips curled up. "Yes. The loud animal," he agreed.

"I'll get some breakfast now. Just stay here, alright?" He left the room with Gabriel trailing after him, going through the hallway and living room to reach his kitchen. He stopped short as he realized something.

Sam had _no idea_ what his guest liked to eat.

He had already turned around to go back and ask when he thought twice about it. The poor guy didn't even know _his own name_, nor did he seem to recognize the word 'dog.' So Sam sincerely doubted he knew what types of food he liked or disliked.

"Guess I'll have to figure something out then," he murmured under his breath. Glancing down at Gabriel, he asked. "I don't think you know what he likes?"

Gabriel merely tilted his head as he whined, flopping down his ears. Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. We will go out for a walk after breakfast," he said, at which Gabriel whined some more as Sam moved towards the fridge and threw it open. Looking at what he still had, his gaze fell on some leftover pancakes from yesterday.

"I think he would enjoy pancakes. Everybody loves pancakes," he said to himself. Figuring that pancakes were a safe bet, he took the plate out and quickly heated it up in the microwave, getting a bottle of maple syrup and a glass of juice along the way.

Gabriel had stopped whining the moment Sam had taken the food out of the fridge. Large ears perked up, the corgi sat quietly as he looked intensely at the food. Sam scoffed at that. "You know that you cannot have this. It's not good for your health."

With the corgi trailing after him, he returned to the room. The man looked up when he entered the room and frowned at the plate of food Sam carried. "They're called pancakes. They're leftover from yesterday. They're pretty good, you should try them," Sam told him as he sat down on the bed again and handed the plate and maple syrup to the man as he put the glass of juice on the nightstand.

He grinned slightly when noticed the confused look that the man had as he looked between the plate and bottle of syrup with a confused expression which looked almost comical. _He's so much like a child_. "The bottle contains maple syrup," Sam said, "you put that on the pancakes."

The man looks up. "Why?" He simply asked, still wearing that frown.

"Because it tastes better that way," Sam replied, not sure how else to explain it.

The man shrugged at that, and much to Sam's bafflement literally dropped the bottle _on top_ _of_ the pancakes. He looked at the bottle full of expectation, probably thinking that something was about to happen. But when nothing happened, he gave Sam a hopeless look. "Nothing is happening," the man stated sadly.

Unable to help himself, Sam burst out laughing, tilting his head back as he nearly fell backward. Gabriel started barking loudly at that and managed to jump on the bed. There the corgi stilled and stared at the plate of pancakes, ears peeking up ever so slowly as he jumped. Sam's eyes widened, and he jumped forward, catching the corgi midair before he could jump the man and snatch the pancakes for himself.

The man's eyes had widened upon witnessing the turmoil before him. Sam gave him a slight smile as he held the corgi firmly against his chest, who was wiggling around and still trying to reach the pancakes. "Don't mind him," Sam apologized. "Give me a second and I'll help you with that."

Standing up, he carried Gabriel towards the door and put him down, closing the door as Gabriel started barking again. "I'll let you in again soon," he called out to him before turning around to face the man again. "Sorry about that," he added.

"It's alright. The dog is funny," the man laughed out, shaking his head.

He walked back towards the bed. Aware of Gabriel barking and scratching the door, he took the plate and bottle of syrup from the man. "You're supposed to do it like this," he said, popping open the bottle and pouring the syrup over the pancakes. The man watched on, mouth dropping open slightly as he reached out his hand - and with a wonder that was much like a child's, held his finger right under the stream of syrup, frowning at the strange feeling.

"It's sticky," he stated, "is it supposed to be sticky?"

"Yes. It's supposed to be sticky," Sam replied, putting the bottle away. "Do you remember how to _eat_?" He asked stupidly, figuring he could best ask now.

"You put it in your mouth." As if to prove his point, he picked up a pancake - the syrup dripping off his fingers - and he took a bite, chewing thoughtfully with a growing frown. Tilting his head, he looked down at the pancake.

"You don't like it?" Sam questioned, adjusting himself on top of the blankets.

"I'm not sure," the man replied, turning over the pancake - not bothered by the syrup on his fingers at all, "it tastes... not bad really, but strange mostly. Somewhat overwhelming."

"Overwhelming?" Sam couldn't help but repeat after him. He has never met anyone who called pancakes 'overwhelming' and, in an odd way, he found it somewhat intriguing. This blond on his bed was like nobody he ever met before. And part of Sam was sure it wasn't only because of the fact he seemed to have amnesia.

The man nodded at that, still focused on the pancake in his hold. Shrugging, he took another bite. "But I guess I do enjoy it," he added, "it's just getting used to."

"Alright, that's good," Sam commented, standing up again. The man caught his movement and his head snapped up, giving Sam an inquiring look with those clear eyes of his. "I'm going to walk my dog, but I promise to be back soon. Will you be fine on your own?"

The man blinked. "Oh, yeah. I guess so."

"You can be a real jerk sometimes," Sam told his dog with a scowl once they got home again. Gabriel merely gave him a corgi-smile as if he did not just made Sam run after him as he himself was happily chasing rabbits. "What would you have done if you actually got one of those poor rabbits? Kill it? That's just gruel, Gabe."

Gabriel whined and tugged on the leash. "Don't go acting so innocent now. We both know you aren't," Sam muttered. He rolled his eyes as he took the keys out of his pocket, momentarily wondering if the man was doing alright during the time he had taken a stroll with his dog.

Turning the key, he opened the door and stepped in. After he had shut the door and removed Gabriel's leash, the corgi immediately ran off – as he often did after they returned home again.

Hearing a sound coming from the kitchen, he quietened and tilted his head. He knew that it wasn't Gabriel – for the corgi often tended to curl up in the living room after their morning walk – and that would only leave one other choice. Hand trailing the wall, Sam moved closer towards the source of the sound he now recognized as somebody who was rummaging around in his cupboards. _If it is indeed the man… what is he doing out of bed_? He thought, hoping that he wasn't getting robbed.

Rounding the corner, he noticed the man standing in the kitchen. Wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and the flannel shirt Sam had given him, as he had opened every cupboard and was looking at their contents. He had taken out seemingly random items, pots and pans, plates and cans – scattered over the kitchen counter – and he was currently holding a bag of flour, looking it over with a great deal of interest, appearing to be fascinated by the white powder within.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked in amusement, glancing around the kitchen. Luckily, the man didn't make much of a mess in his absence and had only really taken cans and bags, and the like, out of the cupboards.

At the sound of his voice, the man jumped, startled. The bag of flour fell out of his hands, scattering its contents all over the floor. Wide-eyed, the man looked up at him. "I… was looking around," he said. He pointed at the white powder on the floor. "What's that?"

"It's flour," Sam explained, "you use it to bake stuff. Such as pizza and bread. Do you recognize any of those?"

The man shook his head and Sam frowned at that, gathering that his memory loss was rather acute and serious. "What's wrong?" The man asked, noticing Sam's look.

"I'm just worried about you," Sam admitted. "If you indeed have amnesia, it's a rather severe case. My brother used to have it as well years ago, but nothing like this."

That appealed to his interest. "You have a brother?"

"His name is Dean," Sam confirmed with a nod of his head, "he's my older brother. He got in a car accident about fifteen years ago and ended up with amnesia thanks to the brain damage he got." Noticing the horrified look he was getting, he quickly added. "He's doing fine now. It was nothing too bad. He was just being reckless and stupid."

"Do you… get along?"

A frown grew on Sam's face as he looked up, leaning against the wall behind him, feeling the wood in his back. "We don't hate each other or anything, but we just have nothing in common." He shrugged. "We were closer when we were kids but grew apart over the years. Now we only really see each other a few times a year. We live our own lives." Tilting his head, he added, curious if a memory was perhaps triggered. "Do you maybe have any siblings, from what you can remember?"

"I'm not sure… maybe."

Sam nodded. _That was a start_. "Once the phones are working I should perhaps try to contact Dean. He has the direct experience with amnesia and all that." As he said that, he moved towards the kitchen sink to get the dustpan and brush he kept there, kneeling before the spilled flour and starting to clean it. The man watched on with sparkling eyes, his curiosity triggered. The man kneeled himself and attempted to shove the flour together into a pile with his bare hands – trying to help Sam in his own way – as Sam continued to talk to him. "You still don't remember your name, do you?" The man shook his head, focused on the task at hand. "I do need to be able to call you by something, so is there maybe one you like?"

The man stilled as he thought about it. "I don't really know many names," he looked up, "why don't you give me one?"

"You want me… to give you a name?" Sam blinked. The man nodded exuberantly and folded his legs underneath himself as he addressed Sam in expectation. "Uhm, okay. Let's see," Sam frowned, copying the way the man sat so they were facing each other, both still seated in the flour.

"How about Mark?" He asked after a while, choosing something that just seemed to fit and somehow stood out to him.

The man tilted his head. "Mark?" He repeated after him.

Almost awkwardly, Sam smiled. "You just remind me of a friend I had in elementary school back in Lawrence. His name was Mark," he admitted, unable to completely hide the awkward blush beginning to tint his cheeks. "If you don't like it I can pick something else for you," he added quickly.

But the man shook his head. "No, it's fine," he nearly hummed. "I like it."

"Well," Sam's smile widened, "it's nice to meet you then, Mark."


	5. Chapter 4 The blade and the 'specialist

It was getting used to, to have someone living with you, however temporary it might be. And Mark was someone Sam needed to get used to alright. The day wasn't even over yet, but he had already figured that much out from spending some time with the blond.

Most of the time it was like he was with a child and he needed a moment to remind himself that Mark was, in fact, an adult. Just one who didn't remember the life he's lived until now. Sam knew it was most likely because of his loss of memories, but there was a certain curiosity about him that most people lost when reaching adulthood. The most ordinary things were what piqued his interest the most.

They quickly made a game about it; Mark was walking around the house, pointing at seemingly random objects, and Sam explained to him what it was as Gabriel faithfully trailed after them.

"What is this?" Mark asked, bringing Sam out of his train of thoughts. Blinking, he looked at the object the other proudly presented to him.

"That's called a mug," he replied, "you generally use it to drink hot beverages from. Like chocolate milk."

"Chocolate milk?" Mark tilted his head at that, glancing down at the blue mug he was holding like it was the Holy Grail and moving it around in his hold, so he could inspect it at every angle.

Sam smiled slightly at that. Mark's cluelessness was rather refreshing. "I'll give you some to try later today. I think you will like it," he offered. Mark nodded at that and inspected the mug for a while longer before setting it back and continuing to look around with large eyes.

"Would you perhaps like to go outside?" Sam questioned once Mark was inspecting the curtains. Clear eyes focused on him. "It doesn't look like your wound is hindering you much, so you should be able to. And the weather is nice."

Mark looked out of the window, at the blue sky and the mountains stretching out in the distance. "It's where you found me, right?" He asked as his gaze was fixated on the woods.

"Yes, I did," Sam confirmed, giving him a sideways glance. "You still don't remember, do you? How you got there?" He fell silent for a while. "You were pretty deep into the woods."

Mark merely shook his head, placing his hand on the window as he looked outside with a frown. "I still don't remember anything."

"That's fine," Sam quickly reassured him, putting a smile on his face. "Let's just take a walk then, the outdoors might do you well." In the corner of his eyes, he saw Gabriel sprint past the two of them, heading towards the front door – having caught on to the fact that they were going outside.

"It's warm," was the first thing Mark said when they stood outside.

Sam laughed lightly. "Welcome to California. Where the sun always shines." Tilting up his head, he allowed the sunlight to warm his face for a while, sighing in content. Even in the middle of November, while cooler compared to midsummer, it was still warm.

"It does?" Mark blinked in bafflement.

"It's just a figure of speech," Sam laughed, shaking his head lightly as he leveled his gaze once more. He pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. "Come on, let's go. Or Gabriel might decide to ditch us."

At the man's confused look, Sam nodded ahead of them, towards the corgi who was waiting for them in the distance. Near the wood's edge. The dog was shuffling around on his paws, nearly jumping in impatience.

So the two men started to walk towards the corgi, in the direction of the woods. Sam kept a close eye on Mark as they did so, watching out for the way he walked. If he maybe stumbled a bit or anything else that could show that his wounds were hurting him, but he seemed perfectly fine. Perhaps he walked a bit slow, but Sam figured that had more to do with the fact he tried to look everywhere at once. With even the smallest movement or sound, Mark's head snapped up to see what the source of it was. And in a way, Sam found it almost comical to watch.

"Just wait until we actually enter the woods," Sam commented as they followed the path that would lead them, "there's much more to see there."

Gabriel barked loudly and came rushing back, sinking his teeth in Sam's trousers and tugging on his pants. "_Gabriel_," Sam cursed, trying to wiggle his foot free from the dog's jaw, "don't be so impatient. We're coming!"

Mark had laughed loudly at that, watching the dog try to drag Sam along by his trousers. "Is he always like that?" He asked.

"He knows what he wants, and he always tries to see it done," Sam groaned in reply as he managed to free himself. Gabriel shot him a smile and ran off again.

"Did it... hurt?"

"Oh no," he quickly replied, "he only took my trousers really. He doesn't actually bite me."

Looking up when they entered the forest, he grinned when all the woodland smells hit his nostrils. He glanced sideways when he noticed Gabriel running off again, barking as he went and nothing but a flash of reddish fur, and then he was alone with Mark.

For while, they walked in silence as Sam awkwardly stared ahead, focusing on not stumbling over anything and falling flat on his face as he kept an eye on Gabriel who was running around in the distance and appeared to be trying to catch birds. Compared to Sam, Mark did not appear to be bothered by the awkward silence around them – or he simply didn't notice as he was busy gawking up at the immense trees surrounding them.

"How do you like the woods so far?" Sam blurted out, just wanting the silence between them to be over with.

Mark looked up at him, blinking those clear eyes of him. "The wooden sticks are very tall," he announced.

Sam blinked at that. "Wooden... sticks?" Then he realized that the man was referring to the trees. A chuckle left his lips. "They're called 'trees', and I agree with you there, they are indeed very tall."

"Those trees are redwood trees. They're the tallest living things on Earth," he added, his inner geek and bookworm resurfacing. Sam has always been one to know his facts, and it showed on the most random of moments. Something his brother always used to make fun of when they were teenagers. Mark looked at him, eyes sparkling as he listened. "And they've existed here, on the Coast, for more than twenty million years."

"Is that a lot?" Mark questioned, tilting his head. He vaguely resembled a puppy as he did so, but Sam decided to keep that thought to himself.

"Yes, it is," he patiently spoke, "trees are organisms capable of living a very long life. Longer than any other creature that I know of. Definitely longer than humans." He nodded towards one of the trees. "The wider they are, the greater their age," he added.

Mark looked at the trees again with a renewed interest, tilting his head up all the way so he could gaze up at the high branches and leaves far above them. Part of Sam feared that he might fall over. "That's rather impressive," Mark commented.

As the other male took his time to admire the trees, Sam took the change to give Mark a closer look. With the sunlight filtering through the leaves above, it shined down on his head and gave him what appeared to be a halo of light. Like a king crowned in gold. Just like he usually did, he viewed the world with a child-like sense of wonder, as if he saw everything for the first time. Which, in a way, Sam suspected was the truth, thanks to his loss of memories. Yet there was something _else_ about him, something beyond which Sam could perceive. He was just so different from anyone he ever met before, in more ways than one.

While Sam had been busy studying him, Mark's gaze had shifted back to the other male. Sam blinked when those clear eyes settled on him again. "What is it?" Mark asked him.

A blush rose on Sam's cheeks at being caught staring and he looked away. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it," he replied, perhaps a bit too hurriedly, hoping that the other would let it go. Mark looked at him a bit longer, seeming to analyze him in a way, before he shrugged and looked back up at the trees.

Sam looked back ahead and frowned when he couldn't spot his corgi anywhere. _Did he ran off too far again_? "Damn it, Gabe," he muttered, which caught Mark's attention.

"What is it?"

Sam shook his head as his gaze swiped around. "Just that I cannot see Gabe anymore," he replied. He whistled sharply, the sound startling Mark, who jumped. "_GABRIEL_!" He called out, looking around for any signs of the dog.

"Oh, I can see him!" Mark announced, pointing ahead of them.

Sam's head snapped up and he followed the man's line of sight. At first, he saw nothing but trees and bushes. Squinting his eyes, he could vaguely make out a flash of reddish fur between the bushes. But as far as he knew, it could be a deer as well. It was too far away to make out any characterizing details. Yet Mark seemed to see it just fine without even having to squint. "You got some pretty sharp eyes," Sam commented.

"I guess so?" Mark merely tilted his head. "I think he's dragging something along."

Some of the color drained from Sam's face. "Don't tell me he killed some poor animal..." He half-closed his eyes and groaned in displeasure.

"I don't think so," Mark replied as the two of them continued walking, "I'm not sure what it is. I don't recognize it."

_Of course he doesn't. He barely remembers anything, _Sam's inner-voice pointed out. "Well, he should get here soon enough and then we'll know for sure." Whenever Gabriel found something 'interesting', he had the tendency to bring it before Sam.

Eventually, the corgi came close enough for Sam to see what he was dragging along. "Is that..." Sam gasped out, "_Gabriel_!" He pushes himself off and then he was running. Mark watched him go in utter bewilderment - and perhaps with a flash of fear at his sudden movement. When Sam reached the dog, he bends through his knees. "Gabe, where did you find the blade?"

Gabriel threw the blade down before Sam and barked loudly, waggling his tail as he did so. Sam noticed that the blade was covered in dried blood, which he found somewhat unnerving. It made him think of when he found Mark, and the blood on the white tree. Before Sam could pick up the blade, Gabriel took it again and ran off towards Mark. He dropped it before the startled man and sat down as he looked up at him, tail wagging. The corgi barked, and Mark shot Sam a hopeless look. Signing, Sam went over to them, but Mark's look stopped him.

The man had turned to look down at the blade at his feet, and Sam watched how all color drained from his face and he jolted back. Mark gripped his bandaged side, and then Sam knew enough. "You recognize this blade?" He asked, looking down at the blade himself in shock. _Is that the weapon he was stabbed with_?

Mark nodded silently. Sam waited for a while, patiently, to see if he was going to say anything, but the blond stayed silent. "What do you remember?" He asked carefully, almost fearing the answer.

"Just that it hurt," Mark replied in a small voice.

Carefully, Sam went over to him. "Hey, it's alright. You're fine now, okay?" He said with a smile. He picked up the blade and held it somewhat awkwardly, not used to holding weapons. "Let's just go back, alright?" He offered, slightly worried at Mark's pale face. Sam dreaded that he might faint.

Mark nodded at that and with his other hand, Sam took a hold of Mark's upper arm as he guided them back the way they came. Gabriel tried to grab the blade again as they did so, jumping as he barked. "Gabriel, this is _not a throwing stick_," Sam spoke at that. Mark cracked a small smile – which went unnoticed by the other.

Still upset by the fact that his phone wasn't working, Sam just hoped that his laptop operated just fine.

He had taken out his laptop and sat down on the couch with it on his lap, aware of Mark's highly fascinated gaze on him as he opened the laptop and turned it on, pretty much holding his breath as the screen was loading.

"What's that?" Mark asked him.

"This is a laptop, you uhm," Sam stopped for a while when he realized he wasn't sure how to explain to someone what a laptop exactly was. "It's a portable human invention that you can easily carry around. It can be used to look up things, and watch movies and play games, for example." Mark tilted his head at that, pretty sure that he didn't fully understand, Sam added, "It's a bit hard to explain. I can show you later, but first I have to look up a few things."

"Like what?"

Sam nodded towards the blade he had placed next to himself on the couch, laying atop a cloth. He had washed off most of the blood so that the blade's curved design and symbols on the hilt and blade were better visible. It was almost metallic gold in color and Sam was surprised at how light it was. He has never held a weapon like that before, but he figured it would be heavier from seeing daggers and blades from the times he has visited countless museums during his childhood and teen years. "I'm going to try and see if I can figure out anything about this blade. Or at least, to find a specialist who can tell me more."

Mark had taken a step away when he saw the blade and Sam shot him a concerned look. "You still look a bit pale. Maybe you should lay down for a while and take a short rest," he suggested.

But Mark shook his head and sat down next to him – on Sam's other side and the further edge of the couch, away from the blade. "No, it's fine. I'm not really tired."

"Alright, if you say so." Sam's eyes glanced back towards his laptop and his face lit up when noticing that it was working.

"You seem relieved," Mark pointed out, studying Sam with a somewhat blank expression.

"I was just worrying that it wouldn't work just like my phone. The phone lines seem to be down, but it doesn't seem to affect the internet connection." He replied, noticing Mark's baffled expression at his words, most likely not understanding a word he just said. A smile formed on his lips. "Don't worry about it," Sam chuckled. "Everything is working fine."

Opening Google Chrome, Sam went and started looking up weapons to see if there was anything matching the one laying next to him. Mark watched on in fascination, seemingly intrigued by the laptop and all the pictures that popped up. Sam tried his best to ignore the hot breath fanning over his neck and instead attempted to focus on the task at hand.

"And? Did you find anything yet?" Mark asked from his spot on the floor. After about thirty minutes, he seemed to have grown bored with watching over Sam's shoulder and Sam had let him try out a 5,000-piece puzzle - which he was attempting to solve now. Gabriel was laying down in front of him, ears perked up as the corgi watched him move the pieces around on the floor.

"Not about the blade itself," Sam replied, scribbling down an address on a sticky note, "but I did find someone who might be able to help me out. A so-called specialist in ancient artifacts and weaponry. He lives about five, maybe six, hours from here."

"Are you going to see this specialist now?" Mark asked next, yet to look up from his puzzle. His brows were furrowed together in concentration as he laid on his stomach. Sam wasn't sure it was the most comfortable position with his bandaged side, but he did not seem to be bothered by it, so he decided to let it go.

Sam glanced outside the window. "I'm not sure. If I went now, I would be home pretty late."

"Well, you don't have to stay for me at least." Mark placed another piece in his puzzle, seeming to think twice about his decision before he put it elsewhere. "I'm going to be busy with this puzzle-thing for the entire day either way."

"Alright then." Sam stood up. "Would you like to come with me or would you rather stay here?" He offered.

"I think I'll stay here and finish my puzzle. I don't think that I will like other people much."

That caught his interest. "Why do you think that?"

Mark shrugged, a slight frown forming on his face. "I'm not sure. It's a feeling, mostly." Gabriel stood up and walked over to Mark, where he proceeded to lay down right next to him like a great ball of fluff.

"You're free to stay here then," Sam assured him, standing up and stretching out his arms above his head, hearing a satisfying pop come from his shoulders. "Just make sure that you stay inside, and I'll make you a couple of sandwiches before I leave. As well as the hot chocolate milk I promised."

"Okay."

Sam shut off the rumbling engine of his car and looked up at the building before him with a growing frown. 'Dump' would come closer to describing it, though, instead of a 'home.' There was a sign – what was written on it barely visible – and old cars were piled up all over the place. After confirming from his sticky note that he, indeed, had the right address and did not got lost, he checked that he had the weapon secured and opened the door of his Land Rover. Stepping out, he squinted up at the sun.

If he indeed was at the wrong place, Sam figured that he could at least ask for directions. With that in mind, he walked up to the front door and knocked two times, after which he waited patiently.

It took a while for footsteps and grumbling to sound from within the building. And it took even longer for the door to open. Sam could hear three – maybe even four, or more – slots getting unlocked before the door opened a tiny bit. Then he found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Eyes widening drastically, Sam was slowly starting to regret his decision of coming here and took a step back, hands lifting slowly to show he meant no harm.

A pair of hard blue eyes glared at him from underneath an old basketball cap. And a gruff voice spoke, sounding about as annoyed as it could get. "Who the heck do you think you are, and what are you doing here, ya idjit?"


End file.
